


The Makings to be Outstanding

by ownedbythestars (ljrvs)



Series: Linked by the Universe [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Academy Era, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Pilot Jessika Pava, Pilot Poe Dameron, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Training, X-Wing(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljrvs/pseuds/ownedbythestars
Summary: “Admiral, are you sure? That sounds like a lot of…extra work for just one pilot,” Jess said softly. She couldn’t remember even one instance in her life when someone went out of their way for her.“One outstanding pilot is worth it,” Antilles told her. “And you, Pava, have the makings to be outstanding.”-or-Jessika Pava can handle herself, thank you very much. But joining the New Republic Defense Fleet Academy is a whole new world. When Admiral Wedge Antilles takes an interest in helping her, a series of events is set in motion that will change her life.
Relationships: Poe Dameron & Jessika Pava
Series: Linked by the Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658350
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	The Makings to be Outstanding

**Author's Note:**

> My intent is that this is the beginning of a series made up of long-ish one-shots (I already have the series mapped out), but I make no promises it will be completed.
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see errors, let me know. Would love to hear any thoughts you have!
> 
> Edited 9/15: Ha. So Jessika Pava threw me in her X-Wing and ran, so this is now the 2nd story in a series that is going to be so much longer than I ever imagined. Also, this piece had to get updated some so that it was compliant with where Jess wanted to go. I don't make the rules. 
> 
> Also, I treat datapads like tricked out cell phones or tablets. Sorry if that's wrong/annoys you.

* * *

28 ABY

“Simulation Complete,” the computerized voice announced. Wedge Antilles sat in the control booth of the Sim Lab and watched as video feeds of his cadets in the Sim Pods switched to their individualized mission reports on the screens in front of him. He shook his head: one pilot’s stats were significantly higher than the rest of the squad and the sim had shown, in sharp relief, that she was far more advanced than the others. Only one other cadet even came close to her scores, but he was still far outmatched by her. That wasn’t a good thing.

While the mission technically was a success, it wasn’t a win, Wedge thought as he stood and exited the control booth. The Sim Pods lowered back into their loading positions and the canopies hissed open. Slightly frazzled looking first-year cadets climbed out, a little wobbly on their feet. All except one.

“Pava!” Wedge shouted as the young woman exited the sim. She pulled off her helmet and waited by her pod until Wedge was face to face with her. “What the hell was that?”

“Flying, Admiral,” she replied. Her face was completely unaffected by the Admiral’s disapproval.

“You almost got your entire squadron killed.”

“We completed the mission,” she shot back. Her lack of respect for command was something Wedge both admired and was deeply annoyed by.

“Your mission lost three pilots,” he reminded her.

“I also took out 17 of the 36 TIEs shot down. And I crippled the transport, allowing for safe connection, extraction of the political prisoner, and disengagement by the rescue vehicle and its crew members. All as was laid out in mission parameters. If the others can't keep up, that's not my fault.”

“You can’t just do what you want up there, Pava. Sims are for you to practice your skills before we put you in a real cockpit. If you fly like that when you're up in the black, you could seriously hurt or kill someone.”

Jess let out a frustrated growl. “Admiral, these sims aren’t even a challenge for me. This run was like practicing to breathe. I could do it on my own if the others would just stay out of my way."

“X-Wing Pilots don’t fly alone, Pava, they fly with a squadron. It’s not just you out there. You have to work with a team if you want to be a starfighter pilot.”

“I know that, Admiral, but—”

“You anticipate and respond to scenarios before anyone else in your squad has even considered them. That's an incredible skill to have, but you don’t communicate what you’re seeing to the rest of your squad. That makes you a rogue in your unit and causes confusion and requires people to make snap decisions. Most first-year pilots aren’t on that level yet.”

Wedge saw the frustration and annoyance in Jess’s eyes ignite. “Then maybe you should have me fly with pilots on my level who know how to anticipate and read a field rather than have me train with these green children,” she argued, though she was barely a year older than any of them. She realized immediately that she had overstepped—more than she was usually willing to push. She was still new to the NRDF and she knew the terms of her enrollment. “I’m sorry, Admiral, I jus—"

“We’ll talk more in the morning, Pava. Dismissed,” he said sharply before turning and leaving her alone in the Sim Lab.

Jess closed her eyes and dropped her head back. "Kriff," she hissed to the ceiling, "I'm so dead."

\---

Wedge was still working through what he was going to do with Pava that night when he got home.

“She’s insubordinate and reckless. And that makes her dangerous,” Wedge groaned as he stretched his shoulders. “But she’s talented. And she's here because I made her a deal. So I'm not gonna drop her unless I’m positive she’s not gonna work out. She doesn't need someone else failing her, and the last thing I want is for her to figure out what's going on and desert without a trace. She could make a killing if she took her skills out for hire. She’d give us a run for our credits if she started running spice. And when she _is_ caught, she'll end up back on her way to that prison and I won't be able to stop it.” He sighed. "Did I make a mistake, Norra? Bringing her here? Did I set her up for failure?"

“Don’t count her out just yet, Wedge.” Norra sat on their bed, completing a Corellian Word Puzzle as her husband paced. “She’s young and she’s working through a rough past. But she chose to be here, and that counts for something.”

“She doesn’t fly well with her squad. It’s like she’s three steps ahead of the sim when she’s in it with them. She told me today it’s not even a challenge.”

“Maybe she has a point,” Norra suggested.

"You're supposed to be on my side."

Norra smiled and continued to work on her puzzle. "I am on your side, dear. I just mean maybe she's right."

“What do you mean by that?”

Norra sighed and looked up from her puzzle. “I mean what I said: maybe she’s right—maybe she’s not being challenged. Wedge, she’s been flying since she was 12. All sorts of ships. Racing and winning all around the galaxy. And not just winning—winning big. She’s probably more experienced than half of the senior-level cadets. So the question you should be asking is whether she is actually insubordinate or is she just bored? Maybe you should have her train with someone more advanced. Or at least have her fly with them to see if she improves when flying at a higher level.” She looked back down at her game.

Wedge groaned as he laid down next to his wife. “Have someone in mind?”

“What about Poe Dameron?” Norra’s eyes crinkled as she made the suggestion, but she didn’t look up, as if it was her own private joke.

“Shara and Kes’ kid? He got her flying and his fire,” Wedge laughed. Dameron had graduated three years prior, but had kept Wedge on his toes all three years he’d been in the Academy. Dameron wasn’t one who was easily forgotten. “That cocky flyboy operates primarily off of caf, stupidity, and sheer nerve.”

“Do you even remember Shara and Kes? He comes by it honestly. And it makes him one hell of a pilot,” Norra smiled at the thought of their friends. "And it sounds like he and Pava could be quite the pair." 

“He does have the right temperament to work with Pava,” Wedge considered.

“And the skills,” Norra added.

“You’re just saying that because he’s your favorite,” Wedge teased.

“And because he was the best in his year,” she said. Wedge noticed that Norra didn’t deny the accusations of favoritism.

Wedge sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine. I’ll try it. She’s too damn good a pilot to pull her out of the cockpit, but if she can’t reign it in, I don’t know if I’ll have any other options than grounding her or...”

"Cutting her loose doesn't mean the same thing for her as it does for others," Norra reminded him. "Cutting her loose means sending her to Megalox."

"I know," Wedge said gravely. "I want to avoid that if at all possible."

“Good.” Norra smiled and sat her datapad to the side. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Were we really so different at her age?” she asked, leaning against his shoulder.

“Different times, Norra,” Wedge deflected with a laugh. “Different times.”

“Were they so different, though?” Norra asked. They both had seen the warning signs that something dark was moving out of view of the Senate, and Leia Organa’s departure from Hosnian Prime was not an action to take lightly. “Something’s happening, Wedge. Something’s coming.”

Wedge hummed in concession. Something was coming and they both knew it. “Which is why we need pilots like Pava,” he surmised.

“She deserves a chance, Wedge. Don’t give up on her.”

“You’ve won, woman,” Wedge chuckled and wrapped his arm around Norra, “I’m not giving up just yet. I’ll contact Dameron in the morning and we’ll get Pava all sorted out. You’ll see.”

\---

“Cadet Pava?” a Junior Cadet approached her in the mess.

“That’s me,” Jess acknowledged.

“Admiral Antilles wants you in Sim Lab 4 at 0745, ready for maneuvers,” he told her.

“Fantastic, thanks,” Jess nodded to the young man and put her head down on the table with a groan.

“What’s that all about?” Niv Lek asked.

“I talked back to the Admiral yesterday."

"I saw that."

"Yeah, so I'm pretty sure I’m about to be kicked out,” she grumbled. _And sent to prison,_ she added to herself.

“No way, you’re the best in our year,” Niv told her, his Core Accent thick.

She grinned wryly up at him with her head still on the table. “With me gone, you’ll be the best.”

“Eh. I’d rather keep you around.“ He took a drink of his caf.

“Best case scenario, I’m knocked down to Recruit and grounded for life. Worst case, I’m discharged.” _Or sent to prison,_ her brain helpfully reminded her.

“Stop being so fatalistic. He said to be ready for maneuvers in a Sim Lab. That doesn’t sound like you’re getting demoted or kicked out.”

Jess snorted and sat up. “Maybe he’ll just make me run a Level 1 Sim until I lose my mind from boredom.”

“Oooh. Can I watch?” Niv teased.

“Eat bantha fodder,” she shot back.

“I’ll stick with the eggs.” Niv lifted his forkful of eggs as if to toast Jess before taking a bite.

Jess flipped him off before putting her head back down on the table. “Just let me die in peace.”

“Nope,” Niv shook his head. “You’re gonna go get into a flight suit and go to Sim Lab 4 and take your death like a respectable pilot.”

“Who said I was respectable?”

Niv shrugged. “Fair enough. You’re gonna take your death like the troublesome pilot you are.”

Jess sighed and stood up. “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m not gonna like it and will complain the whole way there.”

“There’s that famous Dandoran Begrudge-ment.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now,” he laughed. “See you whenever Antilles lets you go.”

“If he lets me go,” she sighed and picked up her tray. “Later.”

\---

Poe Dameron had woken up to a message from Admiral Antilles, requesting his assistance in Sim Lab 4 at 0730. The message told him to come dressed for a sim run and to bring his helmet, but gave no other details as to what his assistance would entail. Muran had theorized that Antilles wanted him to test out a new sim, but Poe doubted it. That seemed like something that would have been scheduled in advance.

But it was a message from an Admiral, and not just any Admiral, but one that Poe had nothing but the utmost respect for. So at 0730, Poe entered the Sim Lab, dressed for flight simulation.

“Dameron! Thank you for coming on such short notice!” Admiral Antilles greeted him.

“Of course, Admiral,” he saluted. “Your message was intriguing. What can I help you with?”

“Take a look at this,” Antilles said, offering a datapad to Poe. Poe took the pad and glanced at the open document.

“Sim Results?” he asked. “I’m sorry, Admiral, but what am I looking for?”

“Just…take a look. See any abnormalities?”

Poe looked through the results and let out a low whistle.

“What stands out?” Antilles asked.

“This pilot, J. Pava, is seriously screwing your bell curve,” Poe answered. “Those are high scores for anyone, but especially for a first-year. Solely responsible for taking out 17 TIEs out of 36 destroyed? That’s not just good—that’s amazing. Extra points for clean or advanced rolls, loops, and maneuvers—some of which aren't taught until second year. In short, they’re good,” he said, offering the datapad back to Antilles. “I’m not sure what exactly you needed me for. You could read those results for yourself. Was that pilot a plant or something? Try to get everyone else to up their game?”

“Look at the rest of her results,” Antilles said, nodding back at the datapad.

Poe looked at the datapad again and tapped on J. Pava’s name. Oh, he realized. “She doesn’t exactly play well with others, does she?” he asked, scanning through. While J. Pava had not directly caused the ‘deaths’ of three other pilots in the sim, her actions had directly led to the situations that led to other pilots’ demise.

“No, she doesn’t,” Antilles agreed. “Well,” he corrected himself, “that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Not sure I follow.”

“I’m trying to assess if she, as you so eloquently put it, doesn’t play well with others or if she is frustrated and being held back by the skills of her cohort.”

“So why am I here?” Poe asked.

“I want you to run a sim with her.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s good, you can see that for yourself. It's obvious she outpaces everyone else in her year. But she doesn’t follow orders and she moves before she should.”

“What does that mean, ‘moves before she should’?” Poe asked.

“She moves how I would expect someone with significantly more training and experience to move—someone like you. She anticipates and responds faster than any first year I’ve seen in years. Her snap decisions are on par with some of the best pilots I've flown with.”

“Better than me, Admiral? That hurts me, sir,” Poe put his hand to his heart and feigned injury.

Antilles narrowed his eyes at Poe, but couldn’t suppress his grin. “And I’m concerned that she’ll get booted or wash out before she actually has a chance to prove herself. I want to see if she really is insubordinate or of she’s just bored and needs to be held to a higher standard.” He continued as if Poe hadn’t said anything.

“You want her to fly with someone more advanced,” Poe smirked, understanding the Admiral’s plan.

“Exactly. I want to put you in a high-level sim, just the two of you. I want to see if she listens to you and if she’s better with someone more advanced or if she’s a bad fit for the New Republic Navy. So I need you to do your best and be the leader I know you can be, but I don’t want you to try and fix it for her, understood? Help her as needed, but you need to let her either succeed or fail on her own merits.”

“Understood, sir,” Poe smiled. “But can I ask, why me?”

“You have the right…let’s call it temperament.”

Poe laughed at this. “She’s a smartass?”

“I’d prefer to say spirited.”

“That’s what polite people say when they want to say that someone’s a pain in the ass.”

Antilles let out a bark of laughter, surprised by Poe’s snark. “If anyone ever doubted you were Kes Dameron’s kid…” he wiped his eyes and sighed. “No, I mean to say she’s Dandoran.”

“Ah,” Poe’s grin doubled in size. Dandoran was a mid-rim world with a reputation for locals who were smart, tough, and often too stubborn for their own good. Poe’s mother had spent a good chunk of time on Dandoran before she joined the Rebellion and then returned to settle on Yavin IV with Poe’s father. She’d spent enough time there that people told her she’d picked up on some Dandoran characteristics. Poe was well enough aware of his own personality to realize that he had inherited some of those traits as well. “Take it that she lives up to the reputation?”

“You have no idea,” Antilles chuckled. “But I figured you could handle her attitude. Plus, Norra suggested you.”

“Ahh, Commander Wexley. Good to know she still thinks highly of me. When are we flying?”

“As soon as she gets here. I told her to report at 0745.”

“And what sim are we flying?”

“You’ll find out when she does. Gotta keep it all above board if I’m gonna go anywhere with this. Modifications to training face high levels of scrutiny and she's already a special case—"

"Special case?" Poe interrupted. 

"Classified. Which is why I can’t have any accusations of favoritism, unlike my wife."

Poe grinned—he’d always known that he was Commander Wexley’s favorite. “Understood, sir. Admirals like you can’t have favorites.” He winked.

“Shut up, Dameron,” Antilles tried to scowl, but couldn’t quite manage to hide his smile.

\---

At 0740, Jess entered Sim Lab 4, dressed in her flight suit and her helmet in hand. Sim Lab 4 was the smallest of the Sim Labs, with only 6 Sim Pods available. Most of the others had at least 16 to 20 Sim Pods, the largest lab had 50. Inside was Admiral Antilles and a young man in a flight suit that Jess didn’t know.

“Admiral,” she greeted with a salute. Antilles could see her nervousness written across her face.

“Pava, glad to see you received my message,” Antilles acknowledged.

“Yes, Admiral. I wanted to apologize to you about yes—”

“Cadet, this is Captain Poe Dameron. He graduated three years ago and was recently appointed leader of Rapier Squadron. Captain Dameron, this is Cadet Jessika Pava.” Antilles interrupted her. “He’s here to help with maneuvers this morning.”

The man that Admiral Antilles introduced Jess to was young with tan skin, dark eyes, and thick, curly hair. He had a handsome face and a bright smile that was both friendly and mischievous. Jess took a liking to him immediately.

“Good to meet you,” he said, offering his hand. He had strong, callused hands and an Outer Rim accent that Jess couldn’t quite place.

“You too,” Jess replied, still unsure of what was happening. “Have I done something wrong, Admiral?” she looked to Antilles. This was not what she had been expecting when she got his summons this morning. “Aside from yesterday,” she amended.

“Not exactly,” he grinned. “I thought about what you said yesterday about not being challenged. And so I’ve decided to let you prove it to me. You’re gonna be flying a high-level sim with Dameron today. He’s in command, you’re his wing. But—this is your one shot to show me that you can in fact follow orders and work with others; that you really are just not being challenged.”

Jess nodded. “Ok. Yes, Admiral,” she tried to hide her grin.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Pava!” Dameron winked and playfully hit her shoulder before entering one of the sim pods.

“Bring it, Dameron,” Jess said, no longer hiding her grin as she climbed into her pod.

“Pava, I’m not holding back on this Sim. So you better show me you can handle it,” Antilles warned before she closed the screened canopy.

“Understood, Admiral. I can take it,” she winked.

"I'll be watching via the feed in the control booth."

"Of course, Admiral," Jess nodded and pulled the canopy closed. She strapped herself into the crash harness and pulled on her helmet and connected to the comm.

“Alright, Pava, you live?” Dameron’s voice came over the comm.

“Yep, read you loud and clear, boss,” she said, starting her ignition sequence. The screen surrounding the mock-cockpit remained dark. She heard the canopy latch seal and felt the pod rise into the air, preparing to run the sim.

"Boss, eh? I like that," Dameron laughed. Jess liked the sound.

“You know the mission yet?” she asked.

“Nah, Antilles didn’t want to make it seem like there was any favoritism or that I had an extra advantage on you. I’ll find out when you do. Should be coming through any second,” he replied. The two pilots sat in their dark pods, waiting for the sim to load. “So the Admiral tells me you’re a pretty good pilot.”

“I’m alright.”

“Your scores say better than alright.”

“You checked up on me?”

“Antilles says you outpace everyone else in your year.”

“Not sure if that’s saying something about me or them.”

“Well, aren’t you cocky?” he laughed. Jess couldn’t help but smile smugly to herself. Dameron turned out to be even more likable than she’d thought—his easy conversation and banter made her feel relaxed and ready to fly. “So, where you from, Pava?”

“Little bit of everywhere, but I’m pretty sure my chaincode calls Dandoran my homeworld. You?”

“Dandoran, eh? My mom spent some time there before I was born. Yavin IV is my home planet, though. Mom and Dad thought it would be a good place to raise a kid.”

“Never been,” Jess replied softly. She hated that she couldn’t say something similar back to Dameron about her parents, but as far as she knew, they had just as likely as not been dead for the past twelve years.

“Flight plan is in,” Dameron didn’t seem to notice her change in tone as their screens warbled and the new mission parameters came up. “And the winner is...Battle of Endor—Second Death Star. Nice. This one’s a trip.”

Jess didn’t comment. She wasn’t surprised that the Admiral had selected this one. Everyone knew that the Battle of Endor sim had a reputation as one of the hardest sims programmed—even pilots who had previously finished it successfully struggled to do it a second time. She gritted her teeth. He said he wouldn’t hold back, so I won’t either, she thought.

“You ready?” she asked Dameron.

“On my mark, Pava,” he replied. “And…engage,” he said and the simulation started.

\--

The Endor Sim had its reputation for a reason. From the moment it engaged, pilots were swarmed with TIE Fighters. Many pilots failed within a minute of their first run on this sim, overwhelmed by the number of TIEs. Jess refused to be a burnout like that.

“Here they come,” she whispered, feeling her adrenaline spike.

“Pava, bank right,” Dameron ordered. Jess hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was gonna treat her like a new recruit or an equal, but followed his orders and jerked her ship to the right, allowing him to blast three TIEs that had been on her tail.

“Roll left,” she shot back. Jess was pleased that he responded her call and cleared the way for her to blast the TIE coming up behind Dameron. The two got through the initial batch of TIE Fighters and closer to the Death Star.

“Dameron, you’ve got one coming in. Scissor left,” Jess instructed. Dameron responded immediately, avoiding a shot from the incoming TIE.

“Pava, on your tail, roll out,” he shouted back as he continued the maneuver. She rolled right before looping backwards, ending up behind her pursuing TIE and firing. She glanced over to Dameron to see him narrowly escape another TIE's fire before taking it out himself.

“Nice,” Jess said, rolling her ship to be next to his.

“Trap at .054,” Dameron told her. She adjusted her bearings and followed Dameron’s lead as they flew straight at an oncoming TIE, only to trap them perfectly, with Dameron taking the shot. Another TIE zoomed towards them, seeming to appear out of nowhere. Jess pushed the throttle forward, daring the TIE to do the same. The TIE broke off first, causing Jess to overshoot. The TIE fired a snap-shot as they passed. The shot missed, but avoiding the blas had thrown Jess off course.

“You ok?” Dameron asked.

“Fine,” Jess replied, circling back to join him. “Gonna take more than some pot shot like that to rattle me.”

The two continued their way through the field of TIE Fighters, rolling, diving, and calling out directions, maneuvers, each other’s names, and “I got you”s.

Jess was pursuing a TIE when Dameron’s voice came over the comm. “Pava! I’ve got two on my tail I can’t shake!”

“On my way,” she replied and executed a reverse throttle hop to take out her TIE before turning towards Dameron, who was jinking as best he could.

"Where are you?" Dameron demanded.

"I see 'em," Jess muttered quietly as she lined up her shot. “Dameron, stall turn, now,” she ordered. As he complied, she whipped her ship into a smuggler’s reverse over Dameron’s ship and took out the TIES at his back.

“Sharp, Pava,” Dameron’s voice sounded impressed.

“We’re almost there!” she shouted. “Kriff, three on my tail, couple coming for you, too, Dameron.”

“You know how to do a modified slip-jaws?” Dameron asked.

“Yep.”

“You're on top. Go,” he ordered and brought his ship parallel with hers for just a moment before she went high and he went low, causing their pursuers to collide. They were finally close enough to the Death Star that most of the TIES weren’t pursuing them any farther, trusting the surface cannons to take them out.

As they started to make their descent, Jess felt something pulling on her ship, yanking her off course. She flipped through all of her controls, trying to regain control of her X-Wing. “Dameron!” Jess shouted. “I’m caught in a tractor beam!”

“You know the Covert Shroud Maneuver?”

“No!” Jess was stressed. She did not want to end the sim in a kriffing tractor beam.

“OK, basically, you’re gonna reflect the beam at itself. Fire your proton torpedoes when I say, then shoot them with your cannons to ignite them. Wait for the beam to scatter and shut down, then get the hell out of there, got it? Ready and—proton torpedoes now!” Dameron ordered. Jess fired her torpedoes. “Fire cannons,” Poe directed. The explosion scattered the beam and let Jess slip free of its grasp.

“Alright, I’m out,” Jess told him. “What’s the plan?”

“Trench run defense. I’ll go low, you cover me,” Dameron instructed.

“You got it, boss.”

They made it about halfway through the first run before being forced to retreat. Just as they were turning around to make a second run, Jess’s sensor went off. A renegade TIE was on her, closer to the Death Star than any others had ventured. She tried to maneuver away, but it stayed on her, getting closer.

“Dameron, I’ve got one on me tight,” Jess told him as she tried to outmaneuver the TIE behind her. “I can’t shake it.”

“I got you. When I say now, dive, got it?” Dameron told her, flying straight at her. “Now!” Jess dove and Dameron pulled up just enough to go over the top of her ship and take out the pursuing TIE.

A surface cannon started firing at Dameron, but Jess quickly took it out before whipping her ship back into position with Dameron’s.

“Thanks,” Jess said. “What’s next?”

“Let’s hit the Trench Run again. Same plan,” Dameron told her.

“I’m on your six,” Jess confirmed as they took another dive towards the massive ship.

Simultaneously, there was a flash of movement to her right, a beep on her sensor, and Dameron's voice shouting “Pava! At your 4!” But it was too late. She tried to pull out, but another rogue TIE had her targeted and in a burst of light, her pod shut down.

\---

“Kriff," Jess hissed. 

Poe heard Pava swear over the comm as the sim shut down.

“Hey, don’t be upset,” Poe told her in the darkness of their pods. “I’ve run this thing 12 times and have only beaten it 5. The first time I completed it was my third try. It’s hard. And I’ve never seen someone so young get so far. I’m impressed.” He meant it, too. She was good.

“Thanks,” she replied sardonically. She had to cut him a break, though: he didn't know what exactly was riding on this for her. “Hope the Admiral sees it that way.”

The canopies disengaged and Poe climbed out of the pod. Jess climbed out of hers and turned to face Admiral Antilles.

“Pava, report to my office at 1300,” Admiral Antilles told her.

“Yes, Admiral,” she saluted and left the lab.

Poe and Admiral Antilles waited until the door closed before turning to face each other.

“What do you think?” Antilles asked.

“You were right. She’s good,” Poe shrugged. “Really good. A natural.”

“That makes her difficult,” Antilles laughed.

“Pretty sure you said the same about me.”

“I at least could threaten to call your dad when you were acting up.”

“Like that would have helped. He probably would have told me good job for giving you hell.”

Wedge nodded. “That sounds like Kes.” He paused, looking at the datapad. “She kept pace with you.”

“Yeah. She knows her stuff and listened to orders. Wasn’t familiar with the Covert Shroud, but if that’s where her knowledge gap is, that’s minor,” Poe said. “End of the day, I’d fly with her again.”

“But will a squadron?”

“Permission to speak freely?” Poe asked. Antilles had never been one to stand on ceremony, especially not with Poe, but he wanted to make sure this response would be welcome.

“Always.”

“Look, Admiral,” Poe met Antilles’ eyes, “you asked for my opinion, so here it is: if she’s a first-year and flies like that, she shouldn’t be in first-year classes. I didn’t make it that far on my first go of the Endor Sim and I was late in my second year when I first ran it. She’s too advanced to fly with new recruits and you know it. You keep her where she is and she won’t be tested and will potentially get herself or someone else hurt. Pilots get in trouble when they’re not working on their skills. And pilots who get in trouble too often wash out.”

Antilles rubbed his chin and considered Poe’s analysis. The man had a point. And Pava didn't have the option of washing out. “If you got to choose, what would you do with Pava?”

Poe considered the possibilities. “If it were up to me? I’d keep her in the first-year classrooms—she didn’t know a Covert Shroud, so she still needs to learn some of the basics. But when it comes to Sims and other practical training, I’d have her run with an older class. Or do private study. Whatever you need to so she doesn’t wash out because she’s bored.”

“You volunteering to be a private flight instructor?” Antilles asked.

Poe opened his mouth, but then closed it again. That was not the question he had been expecting. “Sir?”

“I agree with you. She needs specified training to keep her engaged—and we don’t want to lose her. You up for the job? It’ll come with a promotion,” Antilles smiled.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t just promote me for being a flight instructor.”

“Not for that alone. But in combination with your service record and your appointment to Rapier Squadron…it’s been a long time coming, Dameron.”

“So in addition to my Rapier Squadron responsibilities, you want me to do private Sim training with Pava?” Poe wanted to be sure he understood what Antilles was proposing as clearly as possible.

“Yes, for now. It might evolve into something more comprehensive as she advances.”

Poe quirked an eyebrow at Antilles. “You serious?”

“You would also be paid for your extra training hours.”

Poe nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, I’m in.”

\---

At 1255, Jess was standing outside of Admiral Antilles’ office, desperately trying to not be sick. She pulled at her light grey jumpsuit, trying to smooth it out as best she could. “I can’t get kicked out, Niv. I haven’t belonged anywhere else since I was 8. This is the closest thing I have to a home.” She hadn't told him about what would really happen if she washed out. Antilles had been true to his word: no one knew about her arrangement. And she was determined to keep it that way. 

“You’ll be fine,” Niv told her. “He’s not gonna kick you out.”

“He might,” Jess argued.

“He won’t,” Niv told her.

“He might,” Jess repeated, feeling like the little she had managed for lunch was about to make a reappearance.

“He might if you’re late,” Niv grinned and pointed at his chrono.

“Oh, kriff,” she growled and turned to knock sharply on the door.

“It’ll be OK.” Niv reached over and straightened the collar of her uniform.

“Enter,” Admiral Antilles called.

“Good luck, I’ll see you at dinner,” Niv whispered and squeezed her hand before he slipped away.

“If I’m still here and not halfway to Megalox,” she murmured under her breath. Once Niv was gone, Jess took a deep breath, keyed the door open, and stepped into the office.

“Admiral,” she greeted with a salute.

“Pava, take a seat,” the Admiral indicated to one of the chairs across from his desk. Jess sat on the edge of the chair, nerves like she never experienced while flying assailed her senses. “How are you doing, Pava?" Antilles asked.

"Excuse me?" Jess asked, startled by the question.

"How are you doing?"

"Spectacular," Jess deadpanned. She could feel her irritation rising: he knew what was at stake for her, what was on the line, that he controlled her fate. And he was asking how she _was?_

"Adjusting ok? Classes going well?"

"No offense, Admiral, but...this feels like a terrible time to be asking me this."

Antilles nodded in agreement. "Fair enough. Tell me, Cadet, what did you think of your performance at this morning’s maneuvers?”

“Admiral, I don't know what you want me to say...”

“There’s no wrong answer here, Pava. What did you think?”

Jess considered what she would say for a moment. “I didn’t finish the sim,” she finally said.

“That was to be expected. That was, as you know, the Battle of Endor Sim. One of the hardest we’ve programmed. What I want to know is how you think you did.”

 _Well_ , she figured, _if I’m going out, might as well go out honest_. “I think I was great,” she replied. “I worked well with Dameron, my maneuvers were sharp and clean, my hit count was significantly higher than my miss, and we made it all the way to the trench run. For the first time on that sim and the first time flying with that wingman, I think it was pretty damn good.”

“And what did you think of the sim itself?”

“Challenging. It was a nice change.” Jess bit her cheek, ready to be dressed down by her CO for, well, any number of things. She started to think of her response to him. Tried to think of what she could say to get Antilles to let her stay and not send her off to Megalox.

Admiral Antilles considered her gravely for a moment before smiling. “I agree.”

“Admiral, just let me say how sorry—wait, what?” Jess stopped. “You agree?”

“Yes. You took orders well, you followed the mission parameters, you looked out for your wingman, and all of your other scores remained high. You showed me that you are not insubordinate after all, just bored and unchallenged. I was very impressed with you today, Pava. I told you that this was your shot to prove yourself to me and you did so with flying colors. You told me you could take it and you did. Well done.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Jess said cautiously.

"Not what you were expecting me to say?"

"No, Admiral. I was kind of expecting to be kicked out and for Shore Authority to be here to take me to Megalox." 

Antilles furrowed his brow. "Absolutely not. You haven't done anything wrong. It is now very apparent to me, however, that you are not being challenged at the first-year level and that if that continues, you could pose a risk to yourself or others.”

“Admiral, I can tone it down—”

“Absolutely not,” Antilles cut her off. “I won’t have an exceptional pilot lower her standards because we can’t meet her needs. That’s how outstanding pilots become average pilots who become wash-outs.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Jess said.

“Based on your performance today, you need to finish your first-year classroom courses, but your practical training sessions need to be altered. You will be attending a modified training schedule to fit your skills. I’ve assigned you a private instructor to work with you in Sims and future practical training. I will still administer your competencies, but on an altered scale for your progress.”

“Admiral, are you sure? That sounds like a lot of…extra work for just one pilot,” Jess said softly. "Especially one like me, given my circumstances."

“One outstanding pilot is worth it,” Antilles told her. “And you, Pava, have the makings to be outstanding.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Jess said, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. "But...are you sure?"

"Would you rather go to Megalox?"

"No," Jess said emphatically. 

"Or I could drop you down to ground crew for the next two and a half years until you're out. Is that what you want?" Antilles teased.

"No, Admiral," Jess shook her head, a hint of a smile on her face. "I don't want that." 

"Good. Because I thought keeping you in a cockpit seemed like a better option."

"Thank you, Admiral," Jess replied, the smile widened.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted them. “Ah, that would be your private instructor,” the Admiral told her before calling, “Enter.”

The door opened and Jess turned to see who would be teaching her. She was surprised when Poe Dameron strode in: still smiling, still mischievous. Jess tried to suppress a grin. One-on-one training with Dameron wouldn’t be half bad. He’d at least challenge her.

“Admiral Antilles, Cadet Pava, nice to see you both again,” he greeted with a salute.

“Commander Dameron, thank you for joining us.”

“Commander? Wow, moving up fast, aren’t we?” the words were out of Jess’s mouth before she realized she’d even thought about them. “Oh kriff, yikes, I am so sorry about that,” she rushed, “…Commander,” she added belatedly.

Dameron laughed. “Oooo, Pava! I like you. You have a quick wit. This is gonna be fun.”

“Dameron,” Antilles warned.

“Sorry, sir,” Dameron smirked at the Admiral.

“Cadet Pava, when the rest of your year goes to Sims, you will join Commander Dameron in Sim Lab 4. He and I will develop a modified training plan for you,” Antilles told her. “After we’re done here, I want you to go with Dameron back to Sim Lab 4. He’s going to assess how best to move forward with your training. Provided this alternate training plan works, and you two work well together, we’ll discuss what happens next. Any questions?”

“No, Admiral. Thank you,” Jess nodded with a grin. She couldn’t believe that she wasn't being demoted, wasn’t being kicked out, and wasn't being sent to Megalox. Instead, she was getting alternative advanced training based on her skills. “This is more than I could have ever asked you to do for me."

"I told you before: we will cross every bridge when and if we come to it. Together." 

Jess nodded and discretely wiped at her eyes. "I know. I…I just don’t think I can repay you for this.”

“All I want from you, Pava, is for you to do your best to be your best every day,” Antilles told her. “Think you can do that?”

“Yes, Admiral,” Jess nodded again. Her heart was pounding—she couldn’t believe this was happening to her. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. Well, no one except Antilles on Cantonia at the end of last year.

“Good. I’ll see you for your Astronavigation seminar this afternoon. Don't be late. Dismissed.”

Jess stood and saluted before making her way out the door, Dameron close behind her.

As soon as the door hissed closed, Jess’s legs went boneless and she sunk to the floor and leaned back against the wall. She covered her face with her arms, gripped at her hair, and tried to control her breathing. She couldn’t believe what just happened.

“You OK, Pava?” Dameron knelt beside her.

“Yeah, fine. Just…wow,” Jess gasped. She leaned her head back against the wall and took her hands out of her hair, moving them to cover her face. _This can’t be real,_ she thought. 

“Not really what you were expecting, huh?” Dameron guessed, a grin on his face.

“Not at all,” she agreed and dropped her hands from her face. Dameron had no idea how huge this was for her. She looked up to meet Dameron’s eyes. “I was expecting to be given a whole series of reprimands, demoted to Recruit and grounded for life, if not kicked out altogether. Or worse.”

“Na. You’re too good for that,” Dameron stood and offered her his hand. She took it and used it to pull herself to her feet. “Come on, Pava. Go get a flight suit on—Sim Lab 4 is all ours. Let’s see what you’ve really got.”

“Let’s go. You think you can keep up?” Jess smirked. “Loser buys drinks?”

“Corellian Brandy. I’ll enjoy drinking your money,” Dameron laughed.

“You’ve got a lot of confidence there, Dameron. It’ll be a shame when you’re buying drinks for a rookie.”

Dameron smirked and clapped his hand on her shoulder. “You know, Pava? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”


End file.
